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This story is set in the same ‘Universe’ as my Beth’s Summer Break series but is completely independent. Probably less explicit than some of my stuff, it is a bit of a slow-burner. Eagle-eyed readers with long memories may recognise some of the little cameos from characters in earlier works.
I walked through the village with a sense of dread, cursing my mother for her kindness.
Ok, I would be going to Brighton University in a few months to study Modern Languages, but a personal French tutor? Really? Six hour-long sessions with a Mme. LeClerc. Oh what fun!
“I saw her flyer in the village shop – it will be good for you dear. Think of it as an extension of your eighteenth birthday present.”
At least that had been fun – a fortnight on an exchange visit to Nice just after I left school and turned eighteen.
I walked up to the pretty little row of ten or so cottages on the edge of the village and thought that sometimes you have to take the rough with the smooth. I found the right one, crunched down the short gravel path and knocked on the door with a sinking heart. My best friend Leanne kept telling me to expect a wizened little crone with bad breath and penchant for Absinthe and Gauloises.
She couldn’t have been more wrong. I recognised the woman standing there with an amused expression on her face. I had occasionally seen her cycling around the village, her long black hair and scarf flowing behind her. I immediately felt a little more at ease.
I looked up at her. “Oh hi, I’m Tess Prior. I’m here f-“
I didn’t get and further as she held her hand up towards me as if to say, “Stop!” She had a quizzical look on her face and shook her head vigorously making her thick hair flow around her head.
It took me a moment to realise what she meant and I felt myself blushing a little. With my pale skin I blush very easily. “Oops, pardonnez-moi! Bonjour – je m’appelle Tess. Je suis ici pour la lecon avec Mme. LeClerc.”
The woman smiled and clapped her hands together. “Parfait! Bonjour, Tess. Je m’appelle Virginie.” She held out her hand and I shook it. “Mais je préfere Ginny!”
Her voice was soft, warm and sing-song. The way she said it in her lovely accent it sounded like “Djinny.”
Still holding onto my hand she ushered me inside. It was a compact little cottage, cosy and homely. She gestured to a seat. “Café?”
I sat, trying to think of the right response. “Oui, merci beaucoup – noir, une sucre s’il vous plait!”
She made coffee and we sat making small talk as we drank. It was typically French – strong and pungent and I was glad I had got used to it on my exchange trip to Nice with Nathalie.
I would have put Ginny in her mid-twenties, though at eighteen no-one is very good at aging someone older than themselves. Her black hair framed a round face with a very striking wide mouth. Her lips were full and a lovely pale pink colour. When she smiled – which was often – she showed lovely white teeth and the whole effect made me feel very relaxed and comfortable with her. Her dark eyes were warm and sparkled with life. There were little folds beneath them giving her a very exotic look.
Her black jeans were not so much distressed as distraught. My jeans were out at the knees but hers seemed to be holding together more by good luck than judgement and there was plenty of her long legs on show through the rips and tears. Her sleek, elegant grey cashmere top was a complete contrast and she curled her hands around her bare feet as she snuggled into a comfortable armchair. She made my replica Sussex county cricket shirt seem a little prosaic by comparison.
She was what my mother would call buxom – something I could never call myself, being built like a racing snake. I envied her those ample breasts and wide hips as I recalled a snogging session with a guy from school a while back. It had felt good to me but Leanne had heard him telling his friends I was a good kisser but it was like holding onto a fashion store mannequin.
We finished our coffee and got down to the real business of the day. She said she wanted it to be nice and informal – more a conversation in French than a lesson. She started by explaining to me that she was a French teacher at Newton’s, the local Public School in the nearby town of Amberdown. She had been there for two years and loved it. She also did translation work and had branched out into personal lessons in the holidays.
In return I gave her a potted history of me and my family; my Mum and Dad and my sister Charlotte. Then I went on to my schooling and plans for University. I stumbled a few times, but she helped me occasionally and it felt nice to be conversing purely in French, not like my visit to Nice where Nathalie and I spoke in both English and French.
I found her very easy to relate to and we got on well. It seemed to fly by and at end of the hour, I thought I had done ok.
She rose, smiling. “That was a good session, Tess. You speak very well – very naturally. Not sure about your Nice accent though!”
“Sorry I didn’t even casino oyna realise I had one!”
She laughed. “Not to worry, I’ll have you talking like a true Parisian by the time we are done!”
I was about to leave when a furry little ball of fluff bounded down the hall and almost knocked me off my feet.
She put her hands on her hips. “Roly, c’est très empoli!”
The dog looked round at her and with a little whimper sank to the ground crestfallen. I knelt down and tickled him. He was a labradoodle pup and was cute as a button.
“Il est fou! Tess, this is my new best friend Roly. Eight weeks old. I think he likes you!”
I waggled his ears and he growled contentedly. “I think I like him too! He can probably smell our dogs on me. We’ve got two Labradors – a black and a golden. Anyway, mad dogs are the best sort!”
She opened the door to let me out, keeping a tight grip on Roly’s collar. “Well this little fellow is certainly mad as a hatter! Until next time, Ginny – that was a pleasure!”
I was relieved to be able to say, “Yeah, I enjoyed it too!”
My spirits were high as I wandered back home in the sunshine. Ginny was lovely and Roly was a babe. I could see myself volunteering to walk him when he was old enough as I took Ben and Mollie out. It was a lovely day so I did a wide circle of the village green. I could still taste the coffee Ginny had made for me so I decided on a cappuccino to mellow things out and ducked into Village Grind on my way around.
Leanne had a summer job there and she quizzed me about the lesson as she made my drink. “So was she the old witch we thought?”
As she spoke I heard the tinkle of the door-bell as it opened behind me. I was about to respond when I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I heard a soft French accent. “Careful how you answer that, Tess!”
I looked round and Ginny was grinning at me, white teeth showing between those full lips, a cycling helmet on her head. I smiled and turned to Leanne. “No – lovely lady as it turns out. Very friendly, makes nice coffee and has the cutest little puppy!”
Leanne looked at Ginny, giving her one of her trademark toothy grins. “Hi Gin. The usual I take it? How’s Roly?”
Ginny pouted and wiped away an imaginary tear. “Oh his sad little face – I’ve just left him with Ellie next door for the afternoon while I go into Amberdown.” She handed Leanne a re-usable cup. “Yes, the usual thanks Leanne. Just dashing to the station – need one to go!”
I looked from one to the other. “What, you know each other?”
Leanne laughed. “Course we do – she’s a regular.”
“What, so you knew it was going to be Ginny I was seeing all along?”
“Duh, how many other Frenchwomen in the village, eh? Just thought we’d wind you up a bit!” She gave Ginny her coffee.
“Thanks Leanne. Put Tess’s on there too. See you on Friday Tess!” She waved her payment card airily.
I thanked her as Leanne stamped her loyalty card and she dashed out, hair flying beneath her helmet. I saw her slot her cup into a holder on her handlebars and she pedalled off furiously towards the station, a mile or so outside the village.
When I had finished giving Leanne a friendly mouthful, I retired to a quiet corner and caught up on my social media. Ten minutes later my high spirits had been reduced to ashes. The café was quiet so I sidled up to the counter looking as crestfallen as Roly had done earlier.
I held my phone up to Leanne and she read the screen. “Oh, the little shit-bag – bombing you out by text message!”
My hot date with Kyle was not so hot anymore. My night in town at the movies was now going to be a night in on my own with Netflix. It had all been planned so meticulously – his folks were away so I’d told mine I would be spending the night at an old schoolmate’s in town after the movie. I even had the condoms ready in my bag.
I looked at Leanne sadly. “Fancy a girl’s night out – help me get pissed?”
“Oh sorry, Tess but I’m seeing Mark.”
I put on a pet lip. “Great. Have a nice night. Remember me when you’re on your back.”
She looked around the café and whispered, “Give me your bag!”
She hissed, “Just do it!”
I took my bag off my shoulder and handed it to her. She dashed into the back room and came back with a big smile on her face.
I scowled at her. “What have you done?”
She opened my bag a crack. “My new acquisition. Perfect for a quiet night in on your own. Just wash it thoroughly before you give it back!”
I was about to respond when a couple of mummies with pushchairs and squalling brats began taking over the place, so I quickly snapped my bag shut and thanked Leanne.
A few hours later, I was thanking Leanne a lot more.
“So, come on – what was it like?”
It was Leanne’s lunch-break from the coffee shop and we were sitting outside the Sussex Arms pub on the village green.
She shrugged and sipped her Coke. “The usual. All piss and bluster – the big build-up followed by the even bigger let-down.” She looked at her bag, the vibrator canlı casino now safely back inside. “At least that thing gets me off and doesn’t try to tell me how good it felt.” She pulled a face. “Seven times, now Tess. Seven bloody times and I’ve not even come close to you know what.”
I nodded ruefully. Unfortunately my limited experience had thus far been similar.
Leanne closed her eyes. “And sorry to tell you this Tess but Kyle was in the King’s Arms in Amberdown with Abbie Carter.”
“Oh shit, not bloody Abbie Tits-On-Legs.” I took a drink of my spritzer and glanced down at my cricket shirt with barely a bump in sight. “I may as well give up!”
She leaned in close. “So come on yourself – how was it for you? Had to be better than my dive under the duvet!”
I picked up her empty glass and drained mine. “Let’s just say I owe you a drink or two!” I walked towards the pub door and turned grinning. “Or maybe six!”
I emerged a few minutes later with fresh drinks and she gave me her toothy grin, her brown eyes sparkling. “Good innit?”
I set her Coke down and took a sip of my second spritzer. “Two questions. Where from? How much?”
“Amazon. Less than a tenner.”
“Fuck off! Amazon?”
“Believe it, young Tessie! They sell everything!” She glanced at her watch and drained half her drink. “Best be heading back – Trev will be wondering where I am!”
I pointed across the village green. “Lee, it’s just over there – he can see you through the window. Besides the place is empty at the minute. So come on, how did you order it?”
She looked at me as though I was mad. “Well it was soooo tricky! I had to spell my name, remember my whole address and my credit card number and press a big pretend button someone had drawn on my computer screen!”
I rolled my eyes and whispered. “But what about getting it delivered?”
She looked at me in disbelief. “A man brought it in his little van. Knocked on my door. ‘Parcel for Miss Ellis.’ I went upstairs, ripped the packaging off and had to wash the sheets afterwards.”
She stared at me staring at her with my mouth open. “Oh sorry – I see what you mean! It was when Mum and Dad took Billy and Lucy to EuroDisney at the start of the hols. When I had the place to myself for a week!”
I nodded. “As Shakespeare said in that play we did in our last term, ‘Aye, there’s the rub!’ My Mum and Dad aren’t going anywhere and there’s Charlie to consider as well.”
I shuddered to think of what my parents would say if they picked up the delivery never mind a thirteen year-old sister with an enquiring mind. I could hear her now – her demanding little voice – “What’s that for? Mum, Tess has got a long pink tube-thing and she won’t tell me what it is!”
I thought back to my Mum’s reaction when she picked me up at the airport after my Nice trip and saw my new nose stud for the first time. Nathalie and I had them done after a drunken lunch and hers had not gone down well at home. Mum had merely given me ‘one of her looks’.
In the car she had kept quiet for a while then asked, “Anything else I should know about?”
I shook my head and fingered the stud self-consciously. It was still a little sore around the area. “Erm, no honest Mum.”
We drove on for about a mile before she cracked into a wide grin. “Good on you, looks bloody fantastic!”
Charlie merely did her usual. She looked up from her WhatsApp or Facebook and greeted me with, “Mum, Tess is disgusting. She’s wiped her nose and left snot all over herself!” She tapped a few keys on her tablet and looked up again. “Did you bring me back a nice present, snot-face?”
Of course once we were alone it was a different story and her big gamine grin lit up her face. “Wow, Tess it looks wicked! Did it hurt? When can I get one? Gonna have your lip done? Any tattoos?”
Leanne finished her drink and stood up, pointing across the green. “Just to prove I’m the best friend in the world, the Patels in the Post Office have just started up as an Amazon Pickup spot. See people coming out with parcels all the time now.”
She heaved her bag onto her shoulder and set off across the green, shrugging. “Problem, what problem?”
“Hey Leanne Samantha Ellis?”
She stopped and turned. “Yes Theresa Fotheringham-Smythe Prior?”
“You’re a fucking genius!”
She held her arms out. “Yeah, what of it?” She turned again, waving at me over her shoulder. “Laters!”
“Send me the link!”
Later that afternoon in my bedroom, I copied the URL she sent me into the browser of my PC. The mail that accompanied it had me laughing. It concluded with, “For fuck’s sake, remember to use a towel!”
I managed to remember my name and address just as Leanne had done. I even managed my credit card number. I just hoped to God that the statement would not say “Big Pink Vibrator.” Well, it wasn’t that big, but it was very pink. I even paid the extra for one-day delivery.
I made sure all the relevant e-mails were very well deleted and waited with bated breath until the one came that told kaçak casino me the delivery was ready for pick-up. Later the next day I crossed the village green with my heart in my mouth and walked into the Post Office and General Store.
Mrs. Patel was behind the counter. I had known her since I was about five years old when they had taken over from the legendary Mrs. Brown. Her daughter had been in the year below me at school and played for the same cricket team as me having just moved into the full team from junior level.
“Hi Theresa, how are you today!”
“Hi Padma, not bad at all thanks. Suri batted well last week – great to see her get her first fifty!”
The woman grinned. “Yes, so proud of her. Congrats on Charlotte getting into the County side as well! So what can I do for you?”
I thanked her. “Just picking up an Amazon order.” I felt myself begin to blush as I handed her my proof of purchase. I could feel the hot flush as it rose up my chest and across my face. She must know I was feeling guilty as hell. Even if the package was discreet I bet she could read the bloody bar-code as she zapped it with the scanner.
She rummaged around in a large sack beneath the counter. It was a relief to see a plain brown package and not a lurid depiction of what the box contained. I thanked her and practically ran from the shop, stuffing it into a supermarket carrier bag in case Inspector Charlotte got on my case when I returned home. I went into Village Grind and ordered a cappuccino from Trev. I had just sat down when Leanne came out of the back room.
I pointed at the bag with a big goofy grin on my face.
She winked and went back into the rear of the shop. I almost laughed out loud when I saw her text message.
‘You’ll be even redder than that later!”
The first time with Leanne’s vibe I’d had the place to myself as Mum and Dad had taken Charlie and a friend down to Brighton for a concert by their fave boy-band of the moment. They went to the cinema while the girls screamed their little hearts out at people barely singing in tune.
It gave me a lot of time to make a bit of noise of my own and get nicely worked up.
This time, I found it pretty damned difficult to be quiet and found myself biting my lip and clenching my teeth a lot. I also felt a little inhibited and despite the box saying it was ultra-quiet, I could imagine Charlie through the wall behind me wondering why the hell someone was using a buzz-saw at that time of night.
That said, it was a damned side better than my fingers alone. And as Leanne had said, it didn’t ask me if it had been great for me too, so I didn’t have to lie back. I had to laugh at the description on the box that said it was non-toxic and waterproof. I tried to picture the sort of person who would order a toxic or porous vibrator.
Being unused to it all, it seemed very strange to watch this long, slim torpedo slide effortlessly inside me. I twisted the knob on the end and tried all the different speeds and sensations – not that there were many – it was a pretty basic model. I slipped it in slowly then rammed it hard, hoping I wouldn’t lose my grip and spend a very uncomfortable and embarrassing few hours in Amberdown General A&E waiting for the batteries to run down whilst I moaned and groaned in a prolonged orgasm and Charlie tutted in disgust.
Afterwards, I felt a nice deep glow. I wiped it clean on the towel I had remembered and gave myself a little wipe down below for good measure. I hid it under my mattress until I could wash it properly in the morning and slept a very contented night’s sleep.
The next few days followed a familiar pattern. My sessions with Ginny were going well and I soon realised I was glad my little pink pal was USB-chargeable otherwise the batteries would be costing me a fortune.
I had all but forgotten Kyle and the heavy-chested Abbie and found myself looking forward to the time when I could tuck myself up in bed and experiment with a six inch long piece of buzzing plastic. I even plucked up the courage to give myself a little trim down there as I found I was trapping hairs inside myself which was quite painful on occasions.
Being a red-head, that also had its little problems. If I didn’t manage to collect up all the clippings, it was going to be pretty obvious where they had come from. Suddenly life was throwing new and interesting challenges my way. By the time I had finished, my flaming dark red bush looked a little tidier than it had ever done and I also found it was easier and more satisfying to tease my clitoris without a layer of hair surrounding it.
In her own inimitable way, Leanne had christened her vibe ‘Psi-Co’ – as in ‘pink six-inch comforter.’ I went for ‘Lightyear’ as in Buzz; though good as it was, I hadn’t quite been to Infinity and Beyond yet.
At our previous session, Ginny thought it would be a nice idea if we went into Amberdown and spent a few hours just wandering around, conversing in French about whatever came up. Ellie, her middle-aged next-door neighbour was looking after Roly. It sounded like a good idea and we had a great time – so much so I almost ordered my pizza in French. We had coffees, did a bit of shopping and ended up sharing a bottle of wine in the King’s Arms before our train home.
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